


Drunk in the Bathroom, Messin’ with My Skirt

by RPGCATZ



Series: How To Dress As Human [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - No Killing Game (Dangan Ronpa), Gen, Haircuts, I wrote this at 5 am someone Stop Me, J/nko Eat my fists challenge, J/nko mentioned like 3 times, Makeup, Mikan gets ready for a Date with Chiaki and Komaeda helps, Mikan uses They/Them in this one, Trauma, Zippy I wrote this in 2 days I’m literally dying, in the Past Though!!, komaeda and hajime are Together it’s just not all that big in this one, mikan’s out of that relationship it’s okay!, no beta we die like men, no one is straight, that’s it that’s the story, there are very few cis people but that’s it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 18:17:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17882813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RPGCATZ/pseuds/RPGCATZ
Summary: Mikan, in a burst of euphoria and confidence, slamed open the door of the bathroom and slightly yelled to Komaeda, who had since made himself comfortable on the bed;“I’m Bald Baby!”Komaeda looked at them with a soft gasp, and whispered“Kan, your Wig,,,”





	Drunk in the Bathroom, Messin’ with My Skirt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zippy :-)c](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Zippy+%3A-%29c).



> Title from “How to Dress as Human” by Oson1 (Laura Les) on SoundCloud. 
> 
> Just two teens dealing with gender dysphoria and mental issues for my good buddy Zippy who threw the idea of Mikan with short hair at me and opened my 3rd eye for the 16th Time in one week. Threw komaeda in there because he’s important to me,,,

Mikan gave themself a once over in the mirror. The way their chest buldged from the stuffing and the way small hairs poked out from their tights was-

 _pitiful_. A voice that sounded disgustingly like Jun- no. It didn’t look that way. 

They pushed the bottom of their shirt down, trying to smooth their chest into looking less lumpy and more, normal. 

There was something off, besides the chest and the hairs and the tired look that seemed to stick to their face no matter how many layers of concealer they put on. The cracks at the edges of the mirror caught their eye again, for the seventh time that night. 

Komaeda had once tried to stick photos of their friends over them, hoping that it would help them both forget the blonde pigtailed bitch who caused them. 

He had ripped them down when he went on an anxious spiral a week later, but his effort had still been appreciated. 

They felt like the concealer was their own  form of photos over blonde bitch formed cracks. 

Even if that was literally what it was, the analogy was a good effort too. 

Their eyes moved back to their own form again. Something was still wrong. They turned their head to the right, and then to the left, trying to find the source of conflict. 

The long swishes of their chopped up hair  was what stood out to them the most. The brushes and tubes and pallets of makeup on the counter no longer called to them to cover up the “imperfections”, but now their hair was practically screaming for something to be done to it. 

But what? 

They pulled the strands into a ponytail like shape, but the uneven strands just looked more noticeable. Pigtails were out of the question, and braids wouldn’t work out either. 

They let their hair flop down around their head again before they took their hands and tried their best to guess what their hair would look like if shorter. 

shorter? That could work, they though. 

dropping their hands and grabbing a few makeup wipes, they scrubbed their concealer and foundation off, throwing the wipes in the general direction of the trash can when they were done. 

They quietly opened the bathroom door, covering up their chest with the door and only leaving their head out of the crack. 

Komaeda was shuffling the silverware in the kitchen cabinets around, moving the forks to the center, the spoons to the right and the butter knifes to the left. 

Chances were, he had moved all the plates to the bottom shelf, the cups to the middle shelf and the bowls to the top shelf again, or he hadn’t even started on those. That was rare though, so Mikan didn’t count on it. 

Originally, Komaeda had had plans with Hajime for the night, but with work suddenly dumping something on him, they had canceled. Komaeda had conveyed it to Mikan that he was actually glad he was staying home, saying that he would rather help them prepare for their date than leave them to panic all alone. 

Warching him shuffle through the kitchen with a shaking hand and a slightly less shaky prosthetic, Mikan figured his panic had set in quicker than theirs had. 

“Komaeda?” They called, trying their hardest not to show the mess of the bathroom, knowing Komaeda would probably insist on cleaning it with Mikan in it if he did see it. 

He turned to them quickly, his soft attentive gaze slightly thrown off by the sharper focus cleaning often gave him. 

“Hm?” 

“Do we have any scissors? Like, for hair?” 

Komaeda put his real hand to his face, folding it under his chin in thought. 

“Ah, I think?” He replied after a moment. 

“Gimme a second,” he strode over to his section of the makeshift bedroom, stepping over the small carpet in the center of the room that conveniently covered the stain left from the last night Mikan spent with Her. 

Komaeda shiffted though a few drawers, opened a few makeup bags he had laying around, before turning to Mikan and shaking his head. 

“Mh, can you just grab my surgical scissors then?” 

Komaeda did as he was told, and handed the scissors to Mikan with a small smile. 

Anxious excitement bubbled in their chest.

“Can you wait until I’m done? I wanna get your opinion before I go out,”

Komaeda nodded, and moved to finish up in the kitchen.

Mikan closed the door and grabbed one of the towels from the bathroom cabinet. 

“Oh, I am just a genius,” they half whispered to themself under their breath, staring at the sight of the scissors in the mirror’s reflection. 

They placed the towel under their feet, and began cutting. 

-:-

By the time they were done, a small pile of hair had surrounded their feet on the towel. Originally, they had stopped at a small bob cut, but it still looked wrong. For a moment they had worried that they had made a mistake, but through the worried tears that had sprung into their eyes, when they cut a piece of hair much much closer to their scalp, it started to feel right.

There was a pleased feeling deep in their gut about the look, something oddly proud about the pile of hair now separated from their skull. 

Anxiety also bubbled in their heart, but it was surprisingly less than the pride and happiness they felt. 

They looked at themself for a while, just running their hands over the shorter hairs and allowing the feeling of the locks to rub against their palms. 

They caught sight of the clock on the wall to their right, which read seven pm, they still had a while before they needed to get to their date. 

They smiled wider when the realization hit them that they would be attending the date with their new haircut. 

They bent down, and to the best of their ability, scooped up the left over hair in the towel and threw it away. There were still hairs everywhere, but they knew Komaeda would probably end up cleaning it anyways when they were out. 

With a small sigh, they took the stuffing from their bra, and then unclipped the bra from their chest, figuring they could just, fix it when they got to that. 

They turned, looking silently at their flattened chest, and found it fit the haircut a little too well, making them look more boyish than anything, but it was still a good look. No, a wonderful look even. 

Mikan, in a burst of euphoria and confidence, slamed open the door of the bathroom and slightly yelled to Komaeda, who had since made himself comfortable on the bed;

“I’m Bald Baby!”

Komaeda looked at them with a soft gasp, and whispered

“Kan, your Wig,,,”

The unmistakable look of pride that swelled into Komaeda’s eyes was only a boost to their new confidence, but they had to ask. 

“Do you like it?” They had wanted to ask, do you think she’ll like it?, but they knew Komaeda would only laugh and say he didn’t know. 

“Of course I like it! It’s a good look on you, Kan,” 

He gave them a once over, and looked quizzically at their chest. 

“Are you going out with a binder on?” 

They felt heat rise to their cheeks, remembering all the time Komaeda had seen them struggling to remove a too tight binder and nearly fainting from over wearing it. how he had once made wearing one look easy, Mikan would never know. Of course when he got surgery he no longer needed the clothing, but he wore them on occasion when the mood to do so hit. 

“Well, not really. I need help.” 

Komaeda tilted his head in question, leaving room for them to speak. 

“Uh, I- I can’t make a stuffed bra look normal on me and I was wondering if you could help me figure out how to do it,” they said, proud that their words only tripped up once. 

“Do you want me to do your makeup too?” He asked gently, standing from his position on the bed and stretching lightly. 

They nodded their head quickly, “please,” 

Komaeda turned to the small desk in the corner of the room, and began shifting through the different objects inside before he pulled out a few strange, slightly see through, rounded objects. 

He wiggled one in between his fingers, checking for something, before placing it back in the drawer. 

Mikan returned to the bathroom and pushed their makeup into the box it had originated from. It was just a small shoebox Komaeda had had lying around one day, and Mikan had decided to repurpose it into a makeshift makeup holder. 

They grabbed the makeup wipes as well, knowing Komaeda also had some lying around in his desk, but figured it wouldnt hurt to have them on hand. 

When they returned to him, he had set a few of the lumps on the table, and was then moving his hand along a few of the bras he had stashed in his closet.

They set the box down and stood in place when Komaeda held up a hand to pause them. 

He pulled a few bras from the closet and turned to Mikan. He held them up in front of their chest and made a few humming sounds, letting Mikan take peeks at themself in the mirror above his desk while he worked. 

When he held a bra of descent size and shape, with small edges of lace around the corners, he let out a sound of approval. He moved to let Mikan get a better look at themself, and they found that they did like what the saw in the mirror. 

They nodded and Komaeda let them put the bra on before he made to grab the silicone lumps on the table. 

“What’re those?” They asked, once the bra was securely strapped over their shoulders. It was a bit looser on the straps than they had anticipated, but Komaeda stopped them from fixing it. 

“It’s loose so I can put theses in there, then you can fix it,” he responded. 

“They’re silicone bra stuffing,” he wiggled one between his fingers as he spoke. 

He put one in between their chest and the bra, and left it in when Mikan made no noise of complaint. 

He fitted another into the other cup, but found something off with it, and switched for a slightly smaller one. He seemed pleased with that choice, and he fixed the bra straps until they were flush against their chest. 

“The trick is,” he mumbled “you don’t want to overstuff them, then it just looks unnatural. And using tissues will create a lumped effect that, generally, breast don’t carry.” 

He let them button their white shirt back up, moving into his closet again to grab a towel and black suspenders with an equally black skirt. 

“So the solution, is breast pads.” 

They sat down on the chair in front of Komaeda’s desk and watched as he opened their makeup box and pulled out the foundation, concealer, and a few eyeshadow palettes with a tube of lipgloss. 

He wrapped the towel over their shoulders and chest, and began to do their makeup. 

He ran the concealer under their eyes, and against their forehead, cheeks, chin and the bridge of their nose. 

Taking a sponge blender from his desk, he padded the concealer in gently. He then placed the pale foundation in small bits over their face and neck, then continued to pad it in. 

“You really don’t need to wear makeup on a first date, but I know you have issues with your face and body, so I wanted to say that if Chiaki doesn’t like how you look without makeup, she’s not worth it.”

“She’s not like that,” Mikan started softly, they kicked their legs nervously, letting Komaeda prime their eyes and run a light  brown eyeshadow over their eyelids. He grabbed the eyeliner from the box and set it on the desk. 

“I’m just saying, if she ends up anything like, You Know Who, Hajime, Ibuki and I’ll all come and kick her ass for you, even if she’s our friend.” 

“She’s Nothing like that,” 

“She makes me happy, and she cares a lot about me like I care a lot about her,”

“I know, I know,” Komaeda stated, running a hand gently through their hair, “I just want you to know that you have people who’ll stick up for you if someone tries to do what _she_ did to you, you know?” 

Mikan nodded, and let Komaeda lift their chin to see their eyelids better. 

“Did I tell you what Hajime told me today?” He asked, a small smile building on his lips. 

“I don’t think so?” They responded.

“I love him, but he can be so dumb sometimes. Today he called himself a bear.” He paused, “a Bear!” 

“That man’s a twunk and that’s the hill I’m gonna Die on Kan. He’s a stupid little twunk whom I love very much,”

“He _wishes_ he was a bear,” Mikan supplied with a chuckle. 

Komaeda moved to their lips and drew a fine coat of lipgloss against their mouth. 

He then misted a light sealing spray over their face, waving his hand in order to dry it quicker. 

“All done,” he said lightly. 

Mikan turned to the mirror and found that confidence they had felt earlier rising again. 

“I love it,” they said, smiling brightly. 

Komaeda let them put on the skirt and provided them with a much cleaner pair of tights. He helped clip their suspenders onto their skirt, and ran a hand through their hair again. 

“You look wonderful,” he said softly.

“Though, you might want to get going. Don’t wanna be late for your first date,” he smiled again and hugged them lightly.

”have fun,” he whispered.  

They hugged him back with as much appreciation as they could. 

-:- 

When Mikan stepped into the restaurant and caught sight of Chiaki, they tried their hardest not to blush at her. 

“You look really cute,,” Chiaki stated lowly. 

Chiaki herself looked rather adorable, and Mikan told her so. 

She smiled, and Mikan tried not to lose it when Chiaki ran her hands through Mikan’s hair. 

It was a losing battle the whole night, but the warmth of Chiaki’s jacket around their shoulders as she walked them home made it worth it. Her hand holding theirs and the light kiss she pressed to the corner of their mouth made it all worth it.

_(Chiaki made the embarrassing gushing they did to Komaeda later that night all worth it, like she always did.)_

**Author's Note:**

> G/d,,, okay. This is my first work for the dr series and I’m really sorry if it’s ooc or a bit weird in places I just wanted to write this for my friend lma,,
> 
> If you wanna see me expand on this series please feel free to tell me!!
> 
> As Always,  
> Comments and Kudos are much appreciated loves!~


End file.
